Pastel Whim
by CherryBlossomWish
Summary: Moving to Riverdale to stay with her mom, Betty longs for nothing more than to rid herself of the rules, curfews and perfect, sweet image everyone holds her to. Enter Jughead Jones, Riverdale High's bad boy, son of the Southside Serpent leader and all around rebel. There's a connection immediately, a strong pull that can't be ignored.
1. Chapter 1

Blue Jeans, white shirt  
Walked into the room, you know you make my eyes burn  
It was like James Dean for sure  
You're so fresh to death and sick as cancer

 **Lana Del Rey.**

* * *

Riverdale high was just as big as Betty's old school in Arizona. The same amount of students. The same subjects. The same size. The same extra curricular activities. Yet it felt so _different_. And that wasn't necessarily _good._ On her first day, she'd walked in like a child lost. Students stared, teachers were curious, the walls and lockers gaped in a similar act of shock. And with the fear, embarrassment and awkwardness came the crushing realization that this was an entirely new place, that her life would need to be built up from scratch.

The entire building and rooms within felt as if it had been constructed in a time of retro highs and earthy lows: grand brick designs, framed windows, patterned tiles and yellow and green floors and walls. While it was inconsequential about the looks of a school, it felt unnerving. And with the building came the people: the students looked as if they were all plucked from an old TCM film, perfectly s _well_ , perfectly happy and perfectly normal. But it was just another unsettling thing that had her eyes widening at the weirdness of it all- the charming people, building and smiles were just... _Weird_.

And while she made friends quickly, in the very first hour she should say, nothing could dash the heavy feeling in her stomach. Kevin, Veronica and Archie were definitely nice. Kevin being the head of the drama society, Archie a football player. They treated her as if she were like them: smart, sweet and kind. Perhaps she seemed to be: her pink sweaters, collared blouse and ironed skirt painted her as another doll in this mini world: she was a pastel queen. Yet Veronica perhaps stood out the most. She was definitely not from here, from the big apple in fact, yet she it were as if she wanted to dive in to Riverdale, to be accepted with open arms. And she was. It didn't matter that she wore black lace and expensive, dark clothes: it was the way she smiled, the way she simply curved into the Riverdale life.

Yet if Betty were to talk- really talk- about life outside of homework and milkshakes, Veronica would understand. But it was hard to even think of branching out just yet. Because would she understand? Would she want to break apart from the sweet confines of Riverdale's niceties?

It was, after all, Betty's first day.

"So where did you come from again?" Kevin makes an inquisitive face, sitting by a pile of books and his laptop, "Texas?"

"Arizona." She replied with a smile. She'd rehearsed this question a million times in her head on the plane, thinking of the outrage or the excitement or the curiosity and the answers that could join that: whether it was a lie or not.

"No way." Veronica looked aghast, "You're far too pale. And you don't … Seem like you're from there." She looked her up and down, as if Betty should have been clothed in a cowboy or trucker hat, adorned in daisy dukes and a bikini top. Yet what she saw was a pale, blonde girl with a pastel smile in lace and scalloped collars.

Betty scanned her textbook, pretending to be reading the last sentence. Really, she was just trying to maintain composure. "Well, I'm not from Arizona. I've been moving around for awhile, my dad just got a job there two years ago."

"Then why come here?"

She smiled, "Well, mom has lived in Riverdale her whole life. She moved back here after the divorce a few years ago and missed me, so I thought I'd come back for my last year."

Kevin grinned, eyes alight with inspiration, "And I hear you're a ballerina?" Veronica's smile widened, if that were possible. Betty's jaw clenched tightly. Without waiting for any confirmation and simply trusting the blonde's physique, he continued, "Well, the talent show is coming and I would love for you to get involved. It could really raise the standards of what is usually a night of sub-standard singing and Josie's Pussycat's stealing the limelight." He rolled his eyes, clearly miffed his beloved show followed a clear pattern.

"Yesss!" Veronica cheered quietly, gripping Archie's hand affectionately drawing a smile from the red head. They were obviously in a relationship. Betty's eyes enviously drank their closeness up, attempting to hide it by shining a modest smile as she turned her gaze to the raven haired woman, "Bring some variation to our final show! In New York, mother and I would always watch the ballet! I'm in love with Giselle!"

It was almost embarrassing to have this much focus on her. "That would be nice, but don't any of you have any… Creative talents?"

It went a bit silent, Kevin casting a dark look at Archie, before looking back at his books. "Well," Kevin bitterly sighed, ignoring Archie's rolling eyes, "We have talented singers right here." Veronica 'tsked', "But, Archie maintains his claims he'd rather play football- and Ronnie here would rather be a Riverdale Vixen."

Betty gave them a confused look. Vixen?

"Cheerleader." Kevin explained. Betty nodded and gazed at the couple. It was obviously a thing of contention between the three friends. One desperate for the two to sing, the two iffy and obviously irritated with the constant asking. Betty almost awkwardly let the silence fold over them, but she simply flashed them a curious and optimistic look.

"Aw, well, I'm sure you're talented." Just get the attention off of her, just end the awkwardness- please.

With a prim fold of the arms, Kevin continued, definitely fed up, "I've begged them. And when they got together, you'd think, bingo, a perfect duet. No, _they refuse_."

"Well, if Archie were to get up…" Veronica trailed off promisingly.

"No, no way." Archie laughed.

And suddenly, Betty could feel an inch of relief as they laughed over each other, dragging her in as the attention fell on the two love birds. The tense feeling in her thighs left, her fingers loosened on her books and pages. She definitely liked them: far nicer than the friends in Arizona… Yet understandably curious about her and… Well… terrifyingly perfect.

...

* * *

...

She'd wondered in to the parking lot, promised a ride by Archie as they lived in the same neighbourhood. The ginger had spoken animatedly about the upcoming spring dance, Veronica adding her own flare of drama about what she would wear and how they would put their names in for Spring queen and king and who they knew who would vote for them. Betty looked on, smiling the entire time, following the two closely as the clouds grew above their heads.

"Would you come?" Veronica tentatively asked, standing by Archie's Jeep. As Betty pursed her lips in thought (although she already made up her mind), she skipped close to the blonde, clutching her hands, "Come onnn! It's your first Riverdale Spring prom, and your last one as well! And it would be awesome to see you there, you're _so pretty_ \- and, you're a ballerina, I'm getting serious pink, dramatic ballroom vibes from you." She teased, carrying on while the blonde inwardly winced. And it felt nice to know someone wanted her to be there. Although they'd known each other for a grand amount of a few hours, Betty felt slightly better. Yet, god, sbe seriously thought Betty wanted all that grandiose lace and poof. But who could blame anyone for having that illusion? They took it from what she looked like, who she seemed to be, she hadn't given them any other image of who she was.

Though she was definitely one for proms and dances, Betty loved them, she felt awkward. "Well…" She began, battling a smile, "I guess a king and queen need their support."

Veronica looked to Archie, "Yes! This is going to be wonderful. It's in … Six weeks, but we should start looking for your dress ASAP."

"asap?" Betty quirked her brows, "I think-"

A heavy rumbling interrupted her and silenced her ramblings, shaking her to a standstill. Archie, however, was not silenced, and instead swore loudly as the loud sound got increasingly louder and louder. It vibrated the ground, the air, it had many groaning and jumping into their cars or clearing away from that area of the carpark. "What's that?" Betty had to repeat herself so Veronica could hear. She shouldn't have been shocked to see the kind woman's face suddenly turn to a look of irritation. Betty swallowed.

"That's Jughead."

" _'Jughead'_?" Betty repeated the name.

Archie motioned to look behind her with a nod of his head, eyes narrowed in a glare, "It's _him._ "

'Him' wasn't much of an answer. Betty turned around casually, expecting perhaps a parent or an old bikie (because she knew this sound was from a motorbike- a Harley, maybe? She knew nothing about bikes but she KNEW that sound from the travelling bikies in Arizona) trying to cause shit… Her heart thumped a little bit louder as she saw him, though. He was definitely not an old bikie with an oily, long beard and a big gut with an awkwardly fit leather vest, nor was he a parent going through some mid-life crisis. He was… Well… Betty gazed, breath taken away.

He was young, feet planted on each side of the giant, onyx monstrosity that hummed a growling sound. Combat boots, ripped jeans, a white singlet and suspenders hanging uselessly by his hips- a large, black leather jacket shone in the Riverdale sun. And his face… She licked her lips, her mouth feeling suddenly dry and ashen. He had a sharp face, dark hair that flopped around and misbehaved with the wind and stark, light eyes. He looked… unlike anyone in the town. Mysterious. Angry. Rebellious. As if he didn't belong among the peaceful, retro figures swamping the carpark.

"Who is he?" She asked, turning back to face Archie. His face was pulled in a snarl. Obviously this guy was bad news, Betty thought, yet that didn't put any amount of fear or revulsion in her body. The aura and atmosphere was a murky one, with Archie's clear anger and the fear from students mingling in the air. It washed over her, swallowing her. And she let it. She liked it. It made her body tingle.

He unlocked the Jeep, "He's bad news, Betty. He's a dropkick. He's in the Serpents. Son of the leader. What's worse? He goes here, not THEIR school in the south." Veronica climbed into the front seat, hurriedly. It seemed she was in need of protection from his presence.

"Does it matter if he's from the south-" Betty had no idea who the Serpents were. She had no idea what it was, and for the first time that day, she truly felt intrigued.

"It's not same hatred of land, Betty," Archie explained, placing a hand on her shoulder to pull her into the car, "It's who he is. He's dangerous. Not like a…" He took a breath, silence greeting his ears as the bike was turned off, yet he had to quieten his voice, "you know, _he's not swell_ kind of bad. As in, _He will cut you up_ dangerous."

Swallowing, she gave one last look at Jughead before she was ushered in to the car. He was staring at her with a smirk on his full lips. Whether it was one of interest to see someone new or a look of humour (perhaps he knew Archie was talking about him), she didn't know, but when she turned to face him, time had ceased to exist. Seconds stretched into minutes and hours, the two gazing at each other, questions popping up between them.

 _Who are you?_

 _Why do you look so sad?_

 _Why are you staring?_

 _Do you need fixing?_

 _Do you want a ride?_

Fate was something Betty didn't believe in, the thought of anything magical or superstitious made her fists clench, but she felt at that very moment she needed to see him again. And she would.

...

* * *

...

When Archie dropped her home, Veronica, he and Betty were excited to see Archie and her were next door neighbours. "I'm thinking movie nights." Veronica excitedly called, "And study groups and – Ooh," She excitedly gasped, "I can always sneak to you for some gossip. Do you have a car?" She twisted in the front of the car, gazing at Betty with such a kind gaze it made the blonde's heart hurt. How can she be so trusting? Because Betty looked the part of this pastel world. But she liked it.

Betty shook her head.

"Shame, well," Veronica turned to Archie with a devious smirk, "We have a chauffeur now."

"Seriously? Can't you take the bus? Or your limo?"

Betty's eyebrow quirked. _A Limo?_

Yet she wouldn't hear of it. "No, no- Archie, that is out of the question. You are Betty and my official driver. If you want reimbursement be a good boy." It shouldn't have been a shock to see them flirting, sharing little gazes of lusty promises, yet it made Betty feel… Squirmy. Again. She looked away. Archie sucked his lower lip thoughtfully before placing his hand on her thigh.

"Well, if you insist."

"I do!" She laughed. "Well, Betty, we're here. At Archie's home, too, do you want to join us for dinner? Fred," Archie's dad? "makes a mean lasagne."

While the promise was definitely tempting, the blonde couldn't help but stare at her home. The contrast between the Andrew's home and the Cooper's was vast. Architecturally similar, yet she felt dread staring at what was her now 'home'. She felt the constraints of pink walls and disappointing gazes and insisting yells 'study, study, study' 'this is for your own good' 'follow the rules'. It would have been nice to eat with the Andrew's. Turning back to the two, she gave them a brief smile, "Maybe another night. I've just moved in, I think mom wants to catch up."

"If you say so. The offer's always on." Archie was warm, through and through, grinning sweetly. It matched Veronica's trusting smile. They looked as if they should be on some Christmas card sold at Hallmarks: so perfect, so beautiful, so great. Betty flashed her own smile, climbing out of the Jeep before making her way up to the house, sparing the two a wave before shutting the door behind her.

Alice Cooper was always house proud. A prolific journalist, homemaker and control-freak, she was always doing something. The inside greeted Betty with the beautiful sight of neutral tones and spotless surfaces. Photos of Betty and Alice, or just Betty, or just Alice, greeted her eyes as she wondered down the halls and into the Kitchen. The smell of dukkah and rich spices greeted her. "Oh, Betty, you're back."

"Yeah. Well, I got a ride back."

"Oh?" Alice's face looked a bit perplexed, "From who?"

"just some friends I made." Betty replied, sliding into her seat. "Archie and Veronica- and Kevin."

"Archie Andrews?" her mother pursed her lips, thinking about it for a second. "He's … Interesting. Nice boy. Nice dad." Another way of saying _He won't influence you badly._ "And… Veronica Lodge?" Betty nodded, "Ah- She's … Archie's boyfriend? Well… I can't say I like her parents, but … If you stay on top of your studies." It was laughable to think she was bargaining who her daughter befriended, but Betty knew it would happen. Her mother was so terrified of her final year being a flop. She just wanted to see Betty take the world, as most parents do, but the way she went about it- it had Betty internally screaming. "And Kevin… Is that Kevin Gough?"

"Kevin… Mueller?" Betty thought about it, she was never good at names.

"Oh! The Sherriff's son!" Alice clapped her hands together, "That's nice! He's good at his studies!"

"Yeah." Betty smiled, "That's why they're my friends." Bullshit. They were her friends because she wanted friends and they were the only ones willing to talk to her. If they'd been the worst at school, total weed lovers or more interested in sex than anything else, she'd have done it. Who gave a fuck about them being 'good'?

 _Oh yeah, mom does. And so does Riverdale apparently._

"Well, I'm glad your day was good. See, Riverdale is going to work." Alice smiled, "come on, dinner's almost ready. Why don't you do your homework and I'll dish it out?" Betty nodded with pursed lips, already tugging out her folders.

"There's not much to do."

"Doesn't matter, just do it." Alice sung, yet she was a bit stern. She was always stern. A bit stern. Very stern. Edging on stern. Withholding a roll of the eyes, she went about re-writing notes and answering a few maths questions. It was easy, as was most of the schoolwork given to Betty. If it were hard, all that money poured into tutoring and extra lessons would have been a waste. But while Betty re-wrote words, her mind returned to the burst of vibrancy that day.

It were as if the entire day were a pastel bomb, with soft pinks and blues- some white and sunny yellow thrown in. Sweet, soft, beautiful. The people were nice, typical teenagers, yet a certain standard- need- for normality. As if anyone who were to show up in a cold tone of navy or tropical red were going to wreck the balance of Riverdale. And yet, while it was nice, Betty knew it was… unsatisfying. She'd seen vibrancy in Arizona just out of her reach where rules and curfews kept her away… And now, being launched into a sweet, rosy town had bleached any dreams of seeing parties at night and loud music and flashing lights- but … that man. Jughead.

It were as if a punch had slammed itself in her gut, forcing her to stare upon golden dunes, lusty reds and painful blues. He'd appeared like a devil among angels, leather shining in a field of cotton and polyester. And he was handsome. He looked as if he could dish out a punch, as if his smirk could mesmerise the holiest of nuns, as if he could make Betty spin. "Elizabeth?"

"Hm?"

"What are you doing?" Alice snapped, laying down a tray of steamed greens. The young Cooper was unsure of how long she'd daydreamed of him, but she saw her page was filled with repeated math equations.

"Ah-" She flushed. "I'm trying to memorize this equation. It's hard." She hastily explained, a bit embarrassed. That was a first. A guy had never taken her away from her studies. But this guy wasn't just a guy- He was more than that. Alice returned to the stove top, stirring a pot of mushrooms in a creamy sauce. "Hey…" She began.

"Heya." Alie flashed a smile.

"Mom.."

"Yes, Betty? Is your homework done?"

"Oh- yeah. I was just wondering." When Alice hummed, Betty continued a bit uneasily, "Who are the serpents?"

"Serpents? Southside Serpents?"

"Yeah."

Alice stopped, turning to face her with a frown, curious, "How did you hear them?" It were as if Betty had said a swear as a curious child, "I hope no one spoke of them positively."

Definitely not positively. Quite angrily, in fact, when she remembered Archie's snarl, "No, it was the opposite. I just mean- who are they? Archie acted as if they were… Like…" She picked at a steamed piece of broccoli, chewing it, "dangerous or something."

"Trust me, Elizabeth. They probably don't sound as terrifying as say… the Yakuza or the crips- but they're a violent, disgusting group of men and women."

"So they are a gang?"

Maybe that leather jacket held some gang emblem. Maybe he was the headkicker of them all. Betty should have felt disgusted but she was entranced. "Oh yes. They were here when I was born, they've grown since I returned. They've even spread their disgusting reach into New York." Alice's face scrunched up, "They're a horrid bunch. Spreading their drugs, their violence- their lack of morals. They belong in the south. If you heard the amount of bodies found in the south, the drugs taken in to the North- you'd be shocked."

Perking in interest, her back straightened. It wasn't as if she liked the idea of people dying or drugs being carried, she was sure this Jughead guy wasn't like that- wasn't a murderer, was simply … Bad. Different. Misunderstood. A flash of soft, noir hair and bright eyes flashed in her mind. She tightened her jaw. Alice would never understand- she'd never want to! She barely understood how Betty felt most of the time. Would anyone?

It felt as if she were stuck in a tight straitjacket, unable to move and being toted around by everyone for the different things: spring proms, ballet recitals, study sessions and promises of chastity. If it weren't for the tight clenching of her fists, the nails digging in to her flesh, she'd have held her breath until she was dizzy in some attempt to stop the outrage and the sudden onslaught of tears. "Are you okay?" Alice asked, pouring the mushrooms into a bowl. Her eyes were concerned. Because it made sense for Betty to be shaken by ideas of blood and fearful gangs- not Alice's actions, not Betty's life.

"What?" Betty asked, fists still tightly clenched below the bench, "Yeah. Of course. Just weird to hear that's happening here of all places."

Taking the chicken out of the oven, Alice motioned for Betty's books and textbooks to disappear, pulling out plates and cutlery. Betty sucked on her lower lip, feeling the awkward, painful cramping of her fingers relaxing. She hadn't broken the skin. But it was slightly relieving to feel that pain. "Oh, trust me, Betty. If I could wipe them out of here, for you- for every other girl and boy here- I would." And that was the gospel truth. As Betty cleared the table and set Alice's plate at the marble bench, she just wanted the conversation to end.

"Well, it doesn't matter." Betty smiled charmingly, already serving herself, "I'll… Be…" God, god, god, yuck- yuck- she _hated being here_ _and speaking and god, let her disappear, let her leave-_ "in University soon."

"Studying Law? Or Journalism? Have you chosen?" Alice dropped the serpents talk, pulling a healthy serving of greens and mushrooms onto her plate, "I honestly believe you have a knack for journalism. Like me."

"Yeah." Betty smiled, "I was thinking journalism." And she was. But not that hard. She wanted to go to university, of course, otherwise trying so hard would have been a waste! And she wanted to disappear into New York, to be consumed by the skyscrapers and fluoro advertisement and the mass of colourful, different people. But she hadn't thought about what she wanted to do. It was just… a big lie for Alice and Hal and the Principal and the guidance counsellor and the tutors and friends. "Write about crimes and current affairs." She added. The cherry on top. Alice drank it up, pleased her daughter was following in her footsteps.

As they continued eating dinner, Alice eagerly discussed Betty's future as a serious journalist. Where to go. Who to see. What extra work to do for professors. It was … Boring. But it wasn't controversial, it wasn't harsh, it wasn't full of yelling and screaming and crying.

But really, as Betty continued humming and expanding and repeating the same thing over and over again, all she could really think of were blue eyes, black hair and a snarling motorcycle.

...

* * *

...


	2. Chapter 2

The feeling of falling  
Is still so familiar  
The pain in my stomach  
Is better but baby  
Bright colors have faded  
too early this year  
And strangers look stranger  
Around here  
 **\- Oren Lavie**

* * *

Hal Cooper smoked. A lot. It was something that Betty thought was liberating for him: she remembered as a child before her parents divorced, her mother would constantly throw disdainful glances whenever he came home smelling of tobacco. It was his hidden shame for many years until it became his favorite form of freedom. The single man. The full time journalist. The man who drove his daughters around in a smooth, purring car that stank of smoke.

Whenever they drove down the highways, Betty relished his cigarettes. He would bring down all the windows, setting the interior of the car aflame with the sound of torrential wind, blonde locks from both Betty and Polly flying like desperate ribbons. It was the wind, the sound and the feel, that Betty enjoyed. She enjoyed the long rides where they would all take turns playing music, whether that be California Dreamin' or Hotel California, the sound of the droning guitars and melodic humming would entrance her as the red sands of the desert, the blue sky or the green, ancient trees claimed the scenery.

She could think. She could feel. She didn't have to speak. Her sister and her would contemplate ridiculous things, whether it be dance routines, crushes, homework or fantasy, they both would sit and stare out as Hal allowed gusts of smoke to drown in the over powering sensation of whipping wind. It felt like a hand, to Betty, as she pressed her face against the open window, eyes shut, feeling the element of warmth or cold stroking her face and playing with her hair.

It felt like freedom. She could act as if she were her own human, dressed in leather and denim and wild colors, riding to a place where bonfires crackled or city buildings loomed, where she could defy the Cooper culture of lace and straight A's.

She would relish those car rides. Those moments of quiet thought. When she was sixteen Hal would receive a furious call from Alice: and for some reason, those constant rides would disappear for Betty. That new slot of time would be given to study, study, study.

And now, in Riverdale, placed in the same home as Alice, she could never disappear from those duties. Yet she would cling to those moments, always. No matter what, they kept her smiling wistfully. That night she'd dreamt of the wind stroking her face, dragging her lips into a smile. Only she hadn't been in the car, she was on a bike- pressing her cheek against a leather jacket, her thighs squeezing onto Jughead as he sped through the land. Yet as she awoke to her second day of school, Betty felt as if those dreams and moments were long gone.

Even the idea of seeing that rebel on the bike again… It seemed as if it would never fabricate into anything else then just that: watching from afar. She would be trapped in that lace and pinky cotton. She would never have the guts to come up to him and bear her hidden wishes. He'd laugh at her. Think of her as a wannabe, perhaps. No, most definitely. She could just imagine it, as if it were a scene from some awkward 60s film, where the bad boy smirks, his cigarette flicking with the shape of his lips, the words 'I don't date little girls' striking her like a humiliating dagger.

And humiliation was something Betty would never want to go through.

With that final thought, she had to force herself to climb out of bed. No point in moping. This was, unfortunately, her lot in life. Just as she straightened and made her bed, Alice yelled, 'Betty, wake up! Breakfast!'

The young blonde could smell pancakes. Most likely flourless banana, healthy ones that Alice obsessed over (Betty knew this obsession well, Alice would always share healthy flourless pancake recipes on her facebook wall whenever she had the chance). But Betty couldn't care less, she was kinda hungry. Her closet, packed from that previous night, was a flurry of cardigans, sweaters, blouses, pleated skirts and sundresses. All sweet colors. Twisting her lips with displeasure but also thought, she was consigned to the fact that, yes, she disliked it all, but that is what she had. All she had. Pulling on a skirt and blouse, she made her way downstairs to see Alice serving up three banana-smelling pancakes on two plates.

"Hurry up, Betty." While she sounded tough, she smiled at her daughter. It was because she wanted her to succeed and wanted her to be perfect. That was every parent, Betty supposed. But it was annoying.

Sitting herself down, Betty tucked in, pouring maple syrup on them until Alice choked on her own, "Slow it down, sweetie, syrup is..." high in calories, unhealthy, will take away your figure, it'll... Betty ignored the comment and pulled away, acting as if she hadn't heard a thing. "Are you okay?"

No.

"Yeah."

She wasn't. She felt stifled. But how was it different to anything else? Whether it was Hal or Polly or Alice, all three of them had their expectations on one another. It didn't matter where Betty went. Perhaps even in University it would be the same. She would never be free. Pursing her lips in a pout, Alice edged closer to her, putting a hand over her shoulder and squeezing. "I know it's hard. Being here. It always is hard being new- but..."

"I'm a Cooper." Betty finished the sentence, holding in an eye-roll. To even admit she was a Cooper hurt. She felt as if the name was sour on her, as if everyone who curled their lips over each letter was somehow washing over who Betty really was. She knew she was born a Cooper- but lately, it felt as if it were no longer something to hold onto desperately, but something that clung to her possessively.

"And..."

"Cooper's never give up."

"Exactly." Alice smiled smugly, "And you have more of me than Hal, you can definitely do it."

Betty half-smiled. Sure, she hated being new. She hated it so much. Whenever they moved, it was weird attempting to implement yourself in a new school. She felt it was like a long running TV show, where all the characters fit together, the audience loves them, then comes the new character- where they tentatively test the waters, they try to fit in and it can be a hit and miss- the audience can hate them, the characters can seem perverted by the new order. But Betty felt as if Veronica, Kevin and Archie were nice enough. They liked her. And that was because she, her façade, her perfect ponytail and shiny shoes fit their cookie-cutter life. Of course she was meant for this role, for Riverdale, for the Cooper's. But if the real her- the Betty bubbling away inside, aching and desiring and thinking and feeling- ran free, what would it mean? She would be rejected.

"Thanks, mom."

They finished their meal, discussing what both of them would do, before Alice told Betty to start walking to school. "Do you know the way?" Alice hummed.

"I'll use googlemaps." Betty called, carrying her backpack as she exited the building.

* * *

There was no use for her phone. Archie had seen her exit and offered her a ride immediately. "It's not a problem." He smiled, dimple on his right cheek, varsity football jersey slung over his firm shoulders. He stood by his door, bag slumped by his feet as he locked his door. "Let's head off and meet Ronnie at school."

The drive was filled with brief chatter over different teachers, Archie warning Betty who was and who was not a good teacher, who was and who was not patient, who was and who was not to be trifled with. Betty appreciated it all, it was normal conversation. She smiled and laughed, warmly butting in with a joke or two that had Archie grinning and laughing and chuckling- it was hard to deny that he was definitely a nice guy.

"I'll be careful to avoid Mr Sweeny." Betty chuckled, "He sounds like a nightmare."

"Don't think you can, Bett's." Archie laughed, "If you're in my English class, you're stuffed."

"Well isn't' that swell." Betty snorted humorously as they pulled in to the parking lot. "What, is he a bit of an authoritarian dictator?"

"Of the worst kind." Archie moaned, pulling his car into park before shutting it off. He cracked his knuckles, taking in a deep breath, "the absolute worst." And for the second time in the second day, Betty saw a deep bitterness in Archie's face. His mouth was grim and firm, eyes glaring at the wheel of the car.

"Sorry...?" Betty breathed, a bit nervous. Did she bring something negative up?

"Oh?" Archie looked back at her, undoing his seatbelt, "It's not you. It's the fact that Mr Sweeny just..." He trailed off, adams apple jumping up and down as he struggled to find the words. With Betty's gaze plastered on his, he scoffed to himself before settling with a sigh, "let's just say, he obviously has a favourite. A very undeserving one, I should say."

Just a bit of jealousy? She thought to herself, nodding to him, "Well, we can suffer together, I guess." She could obviously see Archie had his flaws. For all the perfection, rosie cheeks and muscles, he simmered beneath the surface with an unbearable amount of pressure. He wanted to be the top, he wanted to be the best. And he was. Betty could understand Archie was more than just another rosy figure in this town, he was the star figure. Archie turned to give her a smile, "Well," Betty continued, looking out the car window, "There's Kevin-"

"And Veronica."

Veronica was waiting with Kevin by the school gates, dressed in her pearls and navy blue pumps. She waved at the car, as did Kevin, walking over, white smile widening at the sight of Betty, "Betty!" Veronica rejoiced that the blonde woman was to be seen with them again. She placed a warm, kind hand over Betty's arm as she exited the car, "What do you have first period?"

"Uh-" Betty pursed her lips, "Double Maths?"

"Oh, same!"

Before the bell rang, they all hung on the lawns under an oak, the pale sun shining into the rich, green leaves. The grass beneath their legs was soft, lush- and the sky... Betty knew it would never compare to the sky on an open road (nothing ever would), but it was undeniably beautiful. How could Betty deny that? But what she wouldn't do to just lie there, listening to some wailing music, inhaling tobacco and ignoring the luscious whispers of the world. She wanted to feel as if the grass were soft clouds lifting her into the endless sky, where she could whisper her desires, her secrets, her little jokes and theories and conspiracies. Unconsciously, she tangled her right fingers in the tendrils of emerald grass, using her left finger to rearrange a stray curl of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Betty?" Kevin woke her up from her thoughts.

Zooming back to reality, she smiled at the three, "Hm?"

"What do you think?" Veronica grinned.

"About what? Sorry, I zoned out."

Sharing an affectionate look, Veronica and Kevin thoughtfully proposed, "Well, Archie is practicing his guitar this Saturday, I'm free, Veronica is free-" Pausing for a second and gazing at Betty with pursed lips, the young man continued without skipping a beat, "You _have_ to be free-"

"Okay," Betty managed weakly, shrinking as the three roped her further into their lives.

"We're going to go shopping for our prom dresses!" Kevin gushed, "Well- I'm getting a suit, but we should all drive down to New York, it'd be nice to escape this town for a bit."

The idea of pulling on dresses all day wasn't an awful plan. She kind of was excited, but, somehow, at the same time, a bit... Terrified. A bit... Apprehensive. And she wouldn't hate a trip to the city. It was only an hour or two away, ignoring traffic of course. It would be nice to hide away under the gritty, brilliant towers of concrete and glass. It would be nice to see a cacophony of people merging and disappearing. The very idea had a smile itching to her lips.

"Yeah- Sure, I can definitely go." Alice wouldn't mind (hopefully). The ensuing bell allowed her voice to drown under the shrill, hiding the clashing of emotions bubbling in her chest.

* * *

Maths was easy. The constant notes taken, the constant studying (even though it was the second week of school, and officially still Betty's first week) from the previous night meant Betty was set. Veronica struggled, and while her eyes seized the formula's on the page, it meant the entire class was spell-bound... Silence, in the room, allowed the blonde to stare at the black board.

This was to be her life for a year. She could do it. It's not as if this were new. Hal may not have been so strict, but he had his standards, he had his expectations- as did Poly. The excuses of 'we just want you to achieve' 'Betty you can do better' was a mantra that dug into her ears like invading screaming cicadas for years. And it wasn't as if it were all bad. She had a good childhood, parents who loved her, a sister who guided her, always a beautiful house and great education. Yet the ropes that guided her gently once upon a time had become vices.

"...hey..." Came a whisper.

Betty turned to see Veronica bent over her work, eyes set on the numbers that swirled over lines and dots and crosses. Confused, she turned to the other side, seeing a young woman staring at her expectedly. "Me?" Betty breathed, embarrassed.

"Yeah." She gave her a small smile, murmuring, "Can you lend me an eraser?"

"W-What?" Betty gaped like a fish, embarrassed when the woman gave her a curious, if not irritated, look. "Oh, yeah- sorry." Handing her one of her many rubbers (labelled B), the woman gave her a small thanks.

Maths continued on until the bell rang, signalling their thirty minute break. As Betty packed up, Veronica groaned about the terrible realities of algebra. "It's terrible. I'll need another tutor." the ebony haired woman sighed, dramatically throwing her hands in the air. Betty laughed, "Hey, I'm going to run over to the bathroom. I'll meet you in the gardens?'

"Yeah."

As Betty slowly packed up, planning to ask the teacher a small question about assignments and exams, a tap on her shoulder woke her from her plan. "Ah-" The young woman was there, playing with the eraser between her thumb and index finger. "Hey, thanks for lending that to me. I usually never use a pencil or eraser, so I'm always forgetting." She held it towards Betty, but the blonde shook her head.

"No problem. You can have it. I have far too many of everything."

Usually that would be that. People would turn away, thanking her, smiling, and they would be that person you would wave at in the hall, smile at in the cafeteria, maybe see once in a while in town and you awkwardly choose between a wave and a grin. While Betty turned back to her bag, she would have thought this girl would've left. But she instead stayed, "My name's JB."

"Betty." Betty replied. JB leant against her desk, watching as Betty tugged on her backpack, "Betty Cooper."

"Nice to meet you. You're the new girl?"

"Yeah."

"From..."

"Arizona." JB nodded, and it fell a bit silent. "A-And you? You're from Riverdale?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately. It's a boring place, isn't it?"

"So far." Betty laughed a bit awkwardly, warmth flooding in. A small laugh to break the ice, that' all. Maybe a bit more. But Veronica would be waiting- waiting with Kevin and Archie... But... There's no issue with more friends, right? "Well..."

JB continued to talk, obviously not interested in pleasantries. "Well, Betty, I ask everyone this because no one is interested- but at some point, someone must want to, and you seem like that someone, to be honest-" Oh, god, what would she ask? Her stomach clenched, excited and nervous all at the same time, "I run the Blue and Gold school newspaper. I'm literally one of the only people that do." Said with a groan.

"There's a school paper?"

"Yeah. It's usually published online, you can find copies at the office, in the cafeteria, we even get copies sold at the local paper store, it's not as hard-"

Betty felt something bubbling within her chest. Writing? She did enjoy that. "Oh- Yeah- I mean..."

"Would you like to join?"

"Y-"

"You don't have to say yes immediately!"

"I mean- I want to."

"Oh- what? Oh, really?"

"Yeah." Betty smiled, "It'll be fun. Writing about cafeteria mess ups."

"Oh, I assure you, once in awhile we get to write about mascots getting athletes foot."

Betty feigned excitement, "Scandalous." JB simply flashed a gentle nude smile, flashing her pearly whites. "I'd be glad to join… When do I come? Where do I go?"

"Well," JB pulled out a red planner, leaflets messily sticking out, "It's every Tuesday and Wednesday evening after school at 3:30 to 5 o'clock. Here's a lil map I crafted." Her slim fingers pulled out a folded leaflet, pushing it into betty's hands excitedly. "Not many people want to help out here."

"What fools." She wondered why. Writing for the school paper seemed so… Typical of Riverdale goody boys and girls. It should be bustling with students wishing to push the latest pumps and pearly looks, the best hair curlers and local milkshake shops that served the best ice cream. But perhaps it didn't suit athletes and future beauty queens. Betty smiled, "I'll definitely be there."

"Great." JB grinned. She played with her dramatically curled hair, looking excited. "Well… I'll see you around." That was the queue to walk away… A pause on an introduced friendship. But Betty was already bursting with happiness. Writing was her passion. It was something she could easily get excited about. Not dancing, not fashion- not cooking. It was writing. If Betty couldn't live out her desire to travel roads and explore skies, her pen could.

JB walked away, halting at the door, turning back and waving awkwardly, "Thanks- see ya."

"See ya."

* * *

"The Blue and Gold?" Kevin asked, eyebrows arching in confusion, "The _school paper?_ "

"Yeah." Oh boy. Was it a social faux pas? While Betty would obviously pursue it… She wasn't in the mood for controversial actions. "Is it bad?"

Veronica immediately jumped in, back stiff, "Oh, of course not- I mean, it looks good on your record to write if that's what you want to do!" Obviously something was wrong. That big ball of anxiety was back in her gut. "It's just… JB… Runs it."

"Is something wrong with her?" Betty gave an uneasy laugh.

"No. Of course not. She's just…" Veronica swung a look at Archie.

"Difficult." Archie concluded, "She's kind of like really demanding. Always wanting the best 'for Riverdale'."

Kevin scoffed, "That's putting it nicely. She's the queen bee: always getting the best marks, always sitting in the best spot of the cafeteria… She's someone you don't mess with." He looked dead serious. Betty felt her stomach churn. The queen of the pastels? Oh dear.

Writing was exactly what Betty needed, though. She could vent, be a part of Riverdale but at the same time just the right amount of detached to survive. "Oh." Now it looked as if she'd be ruled over by someone so demanding, so insistent about the rosy haze invading that town and it's people, which could spoil all of that. The troubled feeling must have shown in her blue eyes, and she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Veronica looked at her with a sweet smile, "Hey, I'm sure it will be fun!" Not very convincing. "Anyway, you don't seem like a rebel in leather, you don't seem like the kind to write articles on things like…" She trailed off, failing to think of anything.

"Politics." Archie piped in, a helpful tone.

"Yeah, or drugs." Kevin added.

Betty hid her disappointment. Of course the blonde in the cardigan wasn't able to write seriously or about anything … Edgy (for lack of a better word). Don't get her wrong, she wouldn't exactly just write a Time's worthy article on the rise of fascism for the Blue and Gold, but she was intelligent. She could write, for pity's sake, about something deeper and bigger than bake sales and clichés. She smiled, "If I don't like it, I can always leave."

Again, while the three attempted to disguise it with smiles and grins, Betty could see doubt underneath those layers of letterman jackets and pearls. "Yeah. JB wouldn't mind."

* * *

Betty still had no answer as to why Archie hated the English teacher. But it became quite clear when she sat down between two empty seats, one that Archie filled on her right, and one that remained empty. No one would touch it. Betty saw plenty of girls and boys filing in – almost a full class- but no one sat next to her.

Heat flooded her cheeks as the obvious form of anxiety struck her. Did she smell? Was she weird? Did no one want to sit beside her because she was weird? Ugly? Stupid? A sharp pain shocked her out of her spiraling thoughts as her fingers unclenched from their tight, balled up fists. "Alright class." The teacher called out.

He was a wiry man, very tan and very thin. The hair he had left crowning his head was dappled with salt and pepper. He looked quite kind, "If all of you could quieten down, just a bit…" Any fear or caution Archie instilled in her all but disappeared when she saw his gentle eyes match his gentle hum. He seemed like that kind grandfather who never really wasted any breath but to speak some form of quaint wisdom. The classroom died down immediately.

Betty still felt embarrassed. That embarrassment intensified when Mr Sweeny's eyes darted on to her awkward form, "We have a new student. Her name is Betty…" He squinted, looking at a scribble on a torn bit of paper, "Coober?"

"Cooper." Betty instinctively called out.

Now all eyes were definitely on her. Not for the right reasons, either. She was the new kid, the annoying new character that messed everything up, the weird blonde girl who fit in but looked as if she really just wanted to be out of place- Betty gripped her thighs under the table.

"Ah, sorry." Mr Sweeny smiled, "Now, I've heard you came all the way from Arizona? Lovely. It's not as warm here in Riverdale, but on behalf of our town, we hope you enjoy."

What to say now? _Thank you but I hate this place? Thank you but no. Thank you but I kind of want to die when I think of staying here another day?_

Betty simply smiled, "Than-"

The classroom door opened.

The blonde was forced to shut up and stare. It was Jughead. That guy on the bike, the one with that leather jacket and those piercing eyes. He looked as if he didn't give a single fuck about being late, about interrupting or even seeming that little bit rude. His eyes stared straight at Betty (did he recognize her? That pastel girl who stared? She wouldn't blame him if he didn't), then to the seat beside her.

"Mr Jughead." Mr Sweeny didn't sound pleased, however, not furious. Was this the correct teacher Archie spoke about? The dictator? _'Of the worst kind'_? "Late?"

"Yeah." That was that.

Mr Sweeny passed Betty a welcoming gaze, "Well, Betty, I understand it's a hard year to just begin with, so we'll all try our best to help." He seemed to embody Riverdale, Betty realized. However… She found it quite nice. Not overbearing, not fake, very real, very sweet. A cookie cutter man living in a cookie cutter, sweet, sweet life. She smiled, tight lipped.

Class started immediately, with the teacher introducing the subject of this semester's work: controversy. Some of the boys chortled, some girls giggled. Perhaps their mind jumped to something heated like sex or … Betty failed to see why anything would be funny, but she found it ironic.

However she couldn't roll her eyes or even write anything down. She felt … Frozen still. Ice blue eyes were gazing at her, burning a hole into the side of her head. Why was he staring?

"Controversy." Mr Sweeny began, "It's quite an intense subject, I suppose. Some would say too obscure- Vague, almost. But I think it's perfect for this class. Our society, and the many society's before ours, have values and standards for what it is to be an upstanding civilian. Here, it is to reach for the American dream, if we were in Rome a thousand years ago, the perfect civilian would own slaves and live a life of gluttony… Etcetera. To break that mold in any way possible… Now, that is controversy. An affair? Controversial! Drugs? Controversial!" He listed off a few more.

Betty wanted to listen, she really did. Out of all the classes, English had to be her favorite, and this subject … It was everything she felt about Riverdale, about how stuck she felt in her life. But those icy blue eyes were bearing deep into her and she couldn't stop herself from dreaming about what he wanted. Did he want to whisk her away on an adventure? Fuck her hard?

Her hands were clasped tightly under the table. What if he was thinking about how she was just like the rest of the Riverdale lot? Not an exciting person to look at, obviously very boring… What if he were thinking that? And what if she were imagining the staring?

As subtly as she could, Betty snuck a look at him- only to snap back to looking at the teacher immediately. He was looking.

"This semester, I want you to find a book – a poem, a report, a manifesto, whatever you think matches your definition of 'controversial', whether you support it or not, and analyze it. Really analyze it." Mr Sweeny's voice was a soft, passionate hum lulling Betty into comfort, but her heart was galloping a million miles a second. "I will give further instructions in a week, next Friday. You need to have something by then, it is part of your future assignment."

"Now, if all of you could open your workbooks," Mr Sweeny swung a crudely put together 'book' (Really it was just a pile of paper stapled together, obviously made by the teacher himself) in the air swiftly, "to page 78. We'll be looking at a brief excerpt of the Heart of Darkness, where I want all of you to answer the questions I've written on the board."

Betty didn't have a book. Her panic at that (please don't let the teacher call her out!) had her swing her head left, looking at Jughead who was now opening his own book (covered in drawings, mind you) and then right, to Archie who looked at her, "Do you want to read from mine?"

She nodded thankfully.

The entire lesson was silent and hushed, as Betty scooched her chair closer to Archie. "Are you ok?" Archie whispered, very quietly, "Is that serpent trash scaring you? I should have said, he always sits there."

Betty tried to remain calm, whispering back, "No. Of course not." Not scaring, just thrilling her. She felt as if she could implode from the excitement this dark soul gave her. Even looking at Archie, she was tempted to dart her eyes back to Jughead, to feel the zap of excitement spark inside of her at the sight of those electric blue eyes. "Not at all." She whispered lightly, as if she couldn't imagine why.

This intimidating man beside her, the typical jock on the other side- she was trapped between what she wanted and the lifestyle that was forced on her. Bubbling below her flesh, she felt a sudden whip of anger and irritation. She could survive without everyone looking over her as if she were a delicate china doll.

She looked away from Archie firmly, looking at the first question in the book (thankfully she'd already read A Heart of Darkness in her previous school) and quickly turning to her workbook to address it. She scribbled whatever she could (words- honestly, just any words that made sense). Normally, when a conversation had ended, someone would simply turn away and _end it._

Archie leant a bit closer to her, tsking, "If he says anything, upsets you- Just tell me."

Betty turned to him. Would this mysterious guy hurt her? Would he even talk to her? A tingle ran down her spine. She surely wished he'd shake her life up- but doubted it immensely. Her cheeks burnt a cherry red as she realized the class was beginning to listen in. Archie wasn't subtle.

"Is there something you want to share with the class, Mr Andrews?" Mr Sweeny asked gently. His thick, bushy brows were flat, almost shrouding his gentle, dark eyes. Rage filled Betty's veins: the tug of war between the symbolic, mundane, Riverdale life versus something exciting had resulted in her being embarrassed and caught up in trouble. But not the trouble that elicited any feelings of fireworks or happiness. She wasn't sure how much more blood could rush to her head, her face was bright pink, matching some form of article of clothing on her body.

She looked to her table, flustered as Archie stumbled for something to say. "Ah- Well…" _Just say you were offering me help, please, just-_ Betty prayed he'd be smart. Surely he would. That's what every student did: they lied. Betty should have known better with Riverdale, "Actually, yeah, I do." Archie scoffed, standing to his feet.

 _I'm horrified. My pastel life has essentially transformed into a monster- It is now thrashing me around so I can suffer._

"Go ahead, everyone is watching." It seemed as if Mr Sweeny knew what he would say.

"I'm warning Betty, the new girl," _nonononNONONONONO_ "To stay away from Serpent Trash like him."

She wouldn't look- she couldn't look- she couldn't bear to rip her eyes from her piece of paper. And she just wanted to cry. Mortifying! How was Jughead reacting? If he hadn't already, he was surely going to steer clear of her for the rest of her life. If she were him, she'd drop out of school from embarrassment. If Betty had the power, she certainly would. Curiosity got the best of her, and shaking, Betty quickly stole a look from Jughead, only to see him staring right at her, eyes unreadable. She wanted to say something. Her mouth opened just a bit, like a gaping fish, before closing again. Sniggers ran through the class, a few jocks stood up and stood by Archie in solidarity.

Jughead looked away, to his book.

To Betty, it felt as if a door had closed permanently.

* * *

Betty didn't have to confront Archie. She wouldn't. She would never speak to him again.

Ever.

That was a short lived, two day friendship, the shortest she's perhaps ever had. Her pastel monstrous life was going to rip her to shreds before she'd even graduated. The class had stared, laughed- were obviously on Archie's side- before Mr Sweeny had damned Archie to the principal's office. Betty simply felt humiliated and stuck. At this point, she was already classed physically, emotionally and mentally as a Riverdale clone by everyone in the class, school and town. Including Jughead.

And she cared very much.

Any dreams (however distant they were) of him speaking to her, letting her share a cigarette, taking her for rides, fucking her- those were gone. They wouldn't happen. But it was nice to at least look at him without feeling total shame. Now? God, she couldn't even bear to think of him! Angrily, she picked up her pace, exiting her final class- Studies of Society (another one she so happened to share with Jughead).

Word had spread about what happened, and during the break from English to S.O.S, Veronica had quickly hugged her, apologized on behalf of her 'redheaded brute' and asked if she wanted to ditch ( _She should have just gone and fucking ditched)_. But Betty was furious. Furious with Veronica who was definitely pleased with life in that town, who was dating that 'redheaded brute' and who definitely did not look to Jughead as a friend. She was furious because she just wanted to cry to someone about everything in her mind, but she just couldn't.

Throughout the class, a few of the jocks had simply passed her notes, most of them simply images of a bulldog ravaging a serpent with a crudely drawn stick figure (with boobs added on even more crudely) standing in the background, a B pointing at the woman. Messages of support. She wanted to cry.

Obviously they all meant it positively: jesting, supporting her, showing her that she was an honorary member of the 'stay swell' group in their own perverted way. But she didn't _want that._

She wanted to leave. She tried to remain composed, walking through the hallways, eyes straight ahead, before finally exiting the building. She'd have thought the air outside would make her feel less stuffy. She was wrong. She felt just as suffocated. Her cheeks burnt red when she saw Veronica and Archie waiting by his car. The red headed waved at Betty, eyes fixed on her. She was certainly not taking a ride with them. Whether or not that meant she was now not friends with Veronica and Kevin, she needed at least a night and guilt food to figure that out.

She couldn't begin to talk- she knew she'd just begin to cry like an idiot over far fetched dreams dashed away by an idiot who decided to ruin it all! Her plan was to keep walking when she was passing their car- but Veronica quickly chased her into a smooth hug, "B, I'm sorry you're embarrassed! I really am-"

"Gosh," Betty's eyes were burning with tears- _Don't cry, don't cry-_ and she refused to open them lest the flood gates burst. However, when she heard Archie utter such an awkward word, she opened them, looking straight at him whilst Veronica's long arms squeezed her tight, "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I really didn't."

"Well you did," Veronica snapped, releasing Betty abruptly, but somehow graciously. "You really owe Betty something better than a ' _gosh'_ "

No amount of 'gosh' could fix anything.

Nothing could-

 ** _VRRRRRMM_**.

A loud roar of life struck, the same monstrosity Betty had heard the day before, and simply in shock, she twisted around to see the same figure sitting on that bike, revving the engine with a smirk at all the young high school girls screaming in wicked delight. Jughead.

There was no helmet on his head, just the beanie from yesterday, and Betty felt a pang of heartsickness for the rebel (and everything he represented) she would never have. Archie, her mom and simply her luck had ensured that.

She squeezed her fists clenched to stop the bitter anger seep into tears. All she could do was stare wistfully, ignoring Veronica's small gasp of shock as he revved it once more.

"Pig." The blonde heard a certain red head mutter.

Almost as if Jughead had heard it, the ebony man scanned the crowd before his eyes landed directly on the red head… "Fuck off." Archie muttered again.

No.

It wasn't on him.

It wasn't on Veronica.

Betty could swear those electric eyes were on her. Her fingers slacked by her side, the pain throbbing like a pulsating heat. He was staring at her, briefly, like yesterday, like in class, as if he were trying to figure her out- trying to speak. But say what?

Stupidly, the blonde looked at Veronica, back at Jug with a look that obviously screamed, ' _You mean me, right?'_

Jughead's flip of the lip grew into a smirk full of tantalizing mirth before he shoved on his helmet and sped out of the parking lot, eliciting excitement from the crowd.

Maybe… It wasn't over yet? Betty couldn't help a hopeful half smile reach her face.


End file.
